


Winifred

by poeticandvaguelysweet



Category: Jurassic World (2015)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, look it's another, single mom Claire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 10:04:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 21,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7043743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticandvaguelysweet/pseuds/poeticandvaguelysweet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Claire Dearing is forced to encounter time with the young girl she left behind. She needs a little help when it concerns watching the child. That's where Owen Grady comes in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, folks. Here’s the reason why I’ve been silent. I am still really super hesitant to post this. I wasn’t going to, so please keep that in mind. But, writing a 21k one shot isn’t the usual thing I like to do for myself. So, some love would be greatly appreciated. 
> 
> This is Part 1. Part 2 (which is complete) will be posted when I feel like it. Tbh. It’s supposed to be a one-shot but I didn’t want to lob you all with 21k. 
> 
> Winnie is a character I have literally had in my head and on paper since I started taking prompts for this fandom. No joke, the word doc was dated 9th September 2015. I’ve held off finishing her for several reasons. She’s still not perfect. But if I go on any longer we’ll reach novella territory and I’ll want to be paid. (I already want to be paid). 
> 
> Please be kind to her and all her missing pieces. Please be kind to me. Don’t forget to comment, kudos, like, reblog, tag - whatever. Tell me what you think, what you enjoyed and so on. I'll even take HCs. 
> 
> As per usual, shout out to @amelias-obsessions and @bryc-dlls-hwrd for being the best creatures on the planet and parading me through this for so long. Also, @cometothedarkside-x who puts up with me.

There were plenty of things he didn’t know about Claire Dearing. Owen Grady learnt to accept that fact. She was his mysterious coworker, the high-brow woman in upper management who demanded paperwork and on occasion came to visit his raptors. 

He flirted with her outrageously at every opportunity that presented itself. There was a chance there, bubbling at the surface with every fond smile she couldn’t hold back. Owen’s only hesitation; she was too good for him. Way out of his league. Thankfully, his self-deprecation didn’t get in his way too much. 

He waltzed into her office with an easy step, smile on his face, file in his hand. Zara wasn’t there to stop him, which usually meant that Claire wasn’t around. Her office door, however, was open and he could hear Zara’s voice. There was only one person she could be talking to in Claire Dearing’s office. Claire herself.Owen entered without second thought, pausing in just inside the doorway when the room exposed itself to him. 

Claire and Zara were talking at her desk, Claire leaning on the glass structure, arms crossed over her chest, legs stretched out in front of her. Zara was standing just to Claire’s left, her back to Owen. It was neither of the women who made him stop - nor polite manners - but a third person, curled up in an arm chair beside the large floor to ceiling windows. 

She was little, only a girl, soft childlike face covered in a light splatter of freckles. She was asleep, head threatening to roll off the arm of the chair. Her red curls had already been sacrificed to the fall, dangling in tendrils down the side of the armchair. Owen wanted to step forward in order to shift her little body just enough that she could sleep safely, knowing without a doubt that she would form a crick in her muscles that would be painful to get out. 

He had no place to enter that room and interfere with the child. Despite the fact that she could sleep comfortably curled up like a kitten on the seat of the chair, or better yet, stretched out on the love seat opposite. 

The room fell quiet, Zara’s voice no longer filling his ears. Owen looked away from the girl, catching hold of Claire’s startled blue eyes and Zara’s threatening gaze. ‘What’s this,’ He chuckled, ‘Lost kids now being directed to your office?’ His question was poised for Claire, whose startled look dropped seconds after he saw it. 

Zara’s phone rang obnoxiously from her desk, causing the assistant to rush out of the room in order to answer it not before she levelled Owen with a warning stare. Claire’s eyes flickered towards the little girl, before she straightened, hips no longer poised against her desk, posture perfect as she flattened out her skirt. ‘She’s not lost,’ She told him, not willing to elaborate easily. Owen looked back over at the girl, her head inching closer to the edge of the armrest. She didn’t look comfortable. He _really_ wanted to move her.

‘Can I … just - that’s gonna hurt when she wakes up.’ Owen asked, pointing towards the child and then his neck. When Claire gave him a slow, uncertain nod, he dropped his file to the coffee table and stepped toward the girl, feet creeping across the floor on tiptoes. Owen was willing to take precautions in order to leave her sleeping the least amount of disruption possible. 

He lifted the girl easily, Claire watching with bated breath, waiting for the child to wake in a strangers arms. He collected her tenderly, moving slowly, making sure he didn’t disrupt her sleep before he settled her just as easily on the love seat. She shifted slightly once he stepped away, freezing for a second as if holding off movement would prevent her eyes from breaking open. He was right in that assumption. The girl went on sleeping. 

Owen grinned at Claire, smile wide across his cheeks, teeth flashing with pride. She mouthed a soft ‘ _thank you’_ , before dropping to one of the two chairs opposite her desk, sigh on her lips, head in her hand. ‘She your niece?’ Owen asked, collecting his file to place it properly on her desk. He was happy to go in and out, leave Claire and her guest alone with nothing but a gentle inquiry when Claire replied quietly.

‘Ah, no,’ Claire sighed again, ‘She’s my daughter’. 

Owen stopped, unable to move. That was new. He dropped to the chair next to her, sensing that he should stay, that she wanted him to stick around. They didn’t spend much time on the island together, most of it clouded in her frustration and his flirtatious jibes. They spent enough time together to learn things about one another, to pry into private lives (although apparently not enough to learn she had a daughter) or at least garner an ability to interpret the other’s silence. 

‘What’s her name?’ Owen asked quietly, watching Claire’s face as the woman watched her sleeping daughter. 

‘Winnie.’ She told hims softly, smiling to herself at the utterance of her child’s name. 

Owen grinned, the smile growing across his face first at her expression and then his own humour. ‘Don’t tell me you honestly named your baby Winifred,’ Owen teased, joke licking at his words as his eyes glistened.

Claire rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll have you know, that was my great grandmother’s name. She was very important to me.’ Owen hummed, watching her with a small grin as Claire’s attention turned to the girl behind them. ‘She’s four, lived with her father in Wisconsin.’ She kept her information short despite the fact that he didn’t ask. Owen couldn’t help but notice the slight flash of dread in her eyes, or the look that told him she had absolutely no idea what she was doing.

‘ _Lived?’_ Owen asked, picking up on her past tense, suddenly worried. He removed his eyes from her face, drawing them to the girl. _Winnie_. Claire Dearing’s daughter. He squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that this was a weekend visit, a school break, anything other than what he was anticipating. Because he knew what was coming just from the tired expression on her face, and the little girl’s exhausted sleep at 10am. 

‘Her father was involved in a bad accident a couple of days ago. He’s in a critical condition, but his doctor’s are optimistic.’ She sighed again, dragging her eyes away from her daughter. ‘I’m a little out of my depth having her here.’ 

‘I’m sure she’s great.’ Owen offered in an attempt to qualm the fear Claire was softly professing. 

Claire nodded, ‘Perfect angel’. He could tell, without Claire saying it, that she had no experience with her daughter. She rarely left the park, and even then it was for a day or two. He had to admit, he didn’t notice her four day absence to go collect her daughter. Maybe she did see her more than he thought. It certainly wasn’t enough to calm her nerves, to reassure every decision she made from then on out. 

‘If you need anything, I’m happy to help. I love kids.’ Owen offered easily, without much thought. It was true, he liked kids, they were honest. He had a nephew he saw sometimes, during the slow season when he was allowed to take time off. He and Adam got along like a house on fire - well, they actually nearly set his sister’s house on fire. Close enough. They were as thick as thieves and Owen liked to think he was like that with all young children around his nephew’s age. 

Claire smiled softly as she thanked him for his offer. He could tell she was genuinely thankful, but wouldn’t take him up on the suggestion. He tried not to be hurt. She had an office full of people who were likely to jump at her feet if she needed anything. 

In that second, Zara popped her head into Claire’s office, announcing a call waiting on line three when she was ready. Owen took it as his signal to leave. Reminding her quietly of his paperwork on her desk he stood and left the room with a simple bye. 

[…]

Owen got his paperwork done on time the next week. He approached her office as he always had, with excited anticipation. Zara waved him in easily, stunned, but not entirely taken aback to see Owen with a folder in his hand. 

Surprisingly, the news of Winnie didn’t pass through the park like wildfire. There were whispers, but not the same as the usual park gossip. Claire’s presence was scarce that week. Not only to Owen but all other’s she dealt with. He’d hardly seen her let alone heard from her or of her. All investors had managed to come and go without their heads being ripped off for one reason or another. 

She hadn’t taken leave, but she was lying low. Keeping to herself, and _hopefully_ spending time with her daughter. 

‘Zara?’ Claire appeared, wrapping herself around the doorframe just as Owen was about to step into her office. A hand of hers flew out to land on his chest order to avoid a collision she had apparently seen coming. No matter how she expected the move to render him motionless - it had worked. Owen froze, skin burning under the cool touch of her hand resting on his right pectoral. His heart pounded, rate picking up just at the slight touch of her fingers. 

Owen Grady always knew he was a doomed man when it came to Claire Dearing, he didn’t realise it was _this_ bad. ‘I need someone to watch Winnie.’ She told her assistant, looking past Owen to address Zara directly.

‘I’ll do it,’ Owen offered, half stuttering under the pressure of her hand. Claire’s gaze snapped towards his, her blue-green eyes burning into his. 

Claire shook her head. ‘No, no, no. That’s quite all right, Owen, Zara can find someone.’ He could see Zara poised and ready to deny her boss out the corner of his eye. He spoke anyway, before she could. 

‘Seriously, Claire. I’ll watch her.’ He pushed against her hand a little. ‘I have a nephew, probably know a thing or two about kids. That’s more than I can say for half the people in this building.’ She shook her head again, explaining that she couldn’t take him from his work for the afternoon. 

Unlucky for Claire, it was Owen’s day off. He told her as much, before quickly suggesting that no one in Control would loose work time if he just sat around and watched the young girl. It was really no issue, and certainly no harder than training Velociraptors. 

‘There’s this place on Main Street that do chicken nuggets shaped like dinosaurs.’ He added, in case the girl hadn’t had anything to eat. Claire couldn’t help the twitch of a smile, mind begging to know exactly _how_ he knew that. Then again, she could have imagined. Owen being as childlike as he was, of course he knew where on the island sold chicken nuggets let alone ones shaped like dinosaurs - which, in his defence. Just about everything on Isla Nublar was shaped like the creatures that occupied the it.

Zara shrugged behind him when Claire looked to her for help. She hummed, fingers still on his chest. ‘It’ll only be for two hours, three - tops.’ Owen nodded, smiling like he’d just won a medal. Claire rolled her eyes, allowing him to step into her office. 

‘Winnie, this is Owen.’ She introduced them, the little girl sitting crosslegged on the floor, colouring book on the coffee table in front of her, little hand scribbling furiously. She blinked, looking up towards her mother’s voice and then to Owen.

He didn’t think it was possible, but something inside his chest pulled when young blue green eyes turned to him as dark and loving as the lake beside his bungalow. Owen smiled at her softly, dropping down to her level to introduce himself. ‘I bought you something, actually.’ He saw interest flicker in her eyes as he rustled around in his jacket pocket, the girl drawing nearer to him. 

Winnie giggled when he produced a small bag of Jelly Tots, holding them in the palm of his hand and promising they were for her - if her mother said it was okay. He turned to look back at Claire when she didn’t respond. She was watching them intensely, mind in another place until he cleared his throat and she snapped back to reality. 

‘She’s not allowed candy,’ Owen scoffed, looking over his shoulder at the woman behind him. ‘Her father doesn’t give her candy,’ She shrugged, apologising to the girl as Owen tucked the candies back into his pocket. 

She joined him in front of the girl, crouching down in her skirt to do what Owen had done. She wobbled slightly, a little unbalanced in a tight skirt and heels. Trying to catch herself before she toppled to the carpet or twisted her ankle, Claire smacked a hand onto Owen’s thigh. He stayed steady despite the jolt that ran through him at her touch. She squeezed his leg, centring herself and setting his heart pounding in his chest. 

‘Owen here is going to take you to get some lunch,’ The little girl looked mildly panicked at the idea her eyes darting between her mother and Owen. He smiled at her kindly, hoping the expression on his face was enough to comfort the girl. ‘He’ll take you back to the apartment after and I’ll meet you there.’ Winnie didn’t look convinced. She had no choice but to take it, Claire standing tall once again, moving about her office as she threw things into a soft pink backpack. She handed it to Owen when she was done, giving him the number of her apartment in the employee park. 

‘C’mon, little love.’ Owen stood, ready for the girl to follow him, his hand outstretched for hers. Winnie looked to her mother again, Claire already up and moving. She was at the door, talking to Zara on the other side, requesting that her next meeting knew she was running a little late. Winnie turned to him again, blue-green eyes wide as she used her whole hand to push unruly red hair out of her face. Winnie nodded to herself, four-years-old and mentally prepared before she stepped forward and wrapped her small digits around his index finger. 

Just like with every time her mother touched him, Owen felt his heart skip a beat. Something in his chest thrummed as Winnie held tight to his hand ready for Owen to lead her. He was doomed. Owen initially found amusement in ruffling Claire’s feathers, how that had lead to an inability to breathe without her he wasn’t too sure. Now he had Winnie at the tips of his fingers and was terrified to admit he was already in love. All he had was the sight of blue-green eyes and fiery red hair, and the tentative touch of her shy hand. 

Owen was still trying to wrap his head around how small she was. So slight and fragile he was terrified that he would break her. He was an elephant of a man, large and broad where she was a tiny little mouse. The girl reached a good few inches under his hip when she walked by his side. Owen was convinced he would develop a crick in his back from leaning to the right _just a little_ in order for her to comfortably hold his hand. 

He wondered if Claire had noticed as they left her office, or if Zara had chuckled at the simple sight. 

Guests were smiling at him on the street, thinking Owen another father taking his daughter to see the dinosaurs. At first he felt ridiculous, until he was overcome with un-entitled pride. 

Winnie was quiet. He tried to pry her little mind open with gentle questions but she only blinked at him. They walked from Control to Main Street, the distance under five minutes. Winnie was far more interested in the people passing them, a thumb jammed in her mouth.

Main Street was littered with restaurants and cafes, small coffee stations and bakery stalls. His favourite was tucked in the end of a small alley filled with seemingly unimportant things. To those who didn’t want to look very far, it was nothing. For explorers, and keen eyes, it was the best place to eat on the whole island - aside from the Control cafeteria, but they didn’t happen to serve dinosaur chicken nuggets. 

Paper covered the table in place of cloths, crayons kept in cups. Winnie recognised them easily, understanding exactly what they were for in a second. She didn’t let go of Owen’s hand until he pulled out a chair for her, the girl climbing up and reaching for the utensils.

She scribbled delicately, small tongue poking out the side of her mouth as Owen ordered for them. He tried to engage her, drawing scratchy raptors on the paper where she could see them. Winnie seemed interested, but not completely forthcoming with enthusiasm. 

It took him a little while to realise she was shy. He guessed as much the second he met her that morning. She was quiet and internally reserved. She refused to speak to him despite Owen’s best efforts. It crushed him a little to have someone so small wilfully not participating in silly banter. He wanted shrieks of laughter and the same grin she had given him when he produced candies for her. 

Winnie made up for it when their food was set down at the table, the waitress mindful of the girl’s drawings. She sat up, her knees on the chair as she tried to peek over the plate. Her eyes gleamed, catching the dinosaur shaped chicken before she giggled, hand covering her mouth with glee. 

Owen laughed deep in his belly. Her amusement was everything he needed. He would stop at nothing for that look on her face. Owen was willing to bet that he’d sell his life for her happiness. 

[…]

He should have expected Claire Dearing’s apartment to be spotless. Owen knew it would be but he was willing to grant her the benefit of the doubt whilst having her four-year-old in her care. 

There wasn’t a single thing out of place. 

She’d refined herself to plantation. Whites, greens, wood accents. Owen had to admit it was refreshing to step into her home, like he took in a breath of Claire and surrounded himself in her. Maybe that was the point. It was her home after all, no wonder she seemed to be pressed into the walls her very essence there even when she was not. 

Winnie broke free of his hand once the door clicked shut behind them, Owen’s hand resting on it for a second too scared to move. Claire promised she would be there once they’d returned from lunch. The longer he thought about it, the more he realised that she hadn’t set a time. They were out for an hour - was that long enough? He remembered faintly Claire telling him one to two hours - a possible three. That time seemed like too long now, Owen out of ways to entertain the shy girl. 

Winnie reappeared as Owen scrubbed a hand over his stubble covered jaw, trying not to over stress when Claire would arrive. She had a doll in each hand, both of them seemingly familiar. Owen couldn’t tell why until Winnie stopped in front of him, holding both of the dolls up in front of her face for him to see. 

When he dropped down to his knees - still in Claire’s foyer - Winnie took him by surprise. ‘This is Mulan and this is Rapunzel.’ She told him, her voice soft and _very_ serious as she introduced her dolls. He gaped at her, almost certain that she didn’t have a voice at all. At least, not a talking one. She certainly had a giggling voice. She smiled, her grin lopsided as she watched him gape at her, amusement streaking is face. ‘Do you want to brush their hair with me?’ She asked quietly. 

‘I would love to!’ Owen told her, taking the doll she offered. The one he recognised as Mulan. With a hand free, Winnie took hold of his again and pulled him over to the couch, setting herself up nicely before she started running a tiny comb through Rapunzel’s hair. 

Winnie paused for a second, biting the inside of her mouth and tilting her head strangely. ‘Mr Owen?’ She asked as his heart leaped. He had palpitations whenever Claire said his name, this was ten times more corny. Owen was sure there were birds singing a sweet song. ‘Do you still got those candies?’ He grinned, understanding the girl immediately as he pulled them out of his pocket and handed them over. 

Winnie had decided they were perfectly sized for her dollies - _Winnie_ \- to eat. 

She played like that quietly, almost devouring half the bag Owen had brought, instructing him on exactly _how_ to brush a dolls hair. Winnie giggled at him when Owen got it wrong on purpose, seeking out that angelic sound. 

His phone rang at some point. Owen didn’t know if they’d been there for ten minutes or an hour. He jumped for the device, hoping it was Claire. Owen had never been more disappointed to see Barry’s name flashing across his phone screen. 

He answered out of obligation despite the fact that it was his day off. Owen never got time to his self, even on allocated days he was on call and usually _always_ called back to the paddock for something or another. 

It wasn’t anything urgent, or so Barry had insisted when Owen told him where he was. The girls were playing up, but they could handle it without Owen. He wanted to go, _needed_ to go but he couldn’t take Winnie with him. He had to watch her, not leave her in an office at the paddock. Besides, Claire would arrive shortly - or so he hoped. 

The longer it took for Claire to arrive the more agitated Owen got. He was desperate to run to the aid of his velociraptors. He tried not to take it out on Winnie - and succeeded, but she had noticed his agitation. 

The girl put a movie on for them. Working Claire’s TV until _Tangled_ flashed to the title screen where Winnie pressed _play._

‘I like this one.’ She told him softly, climbing back on the couch with use of all four limbs. She stopped the second she was settled, the movie moving beyond it’s title credits. Winnie quirked her head at him, humming to herself before slipping off the couch and disappearing down the hall. She was back in a second, hair brush in her hand. ‘Can you brush my hair?’ She asked, just as she had when it concerned her dolls. 

Owen nodded softly, feeling a slight bit honoured to be asked to perform such a task. He reached for the brush she had extended, one hand trying to pull the hair tie off her pony tale. The girl watching him with a cautious eye, ‘Don’t be rough.’ She warned him, turning her back and handing over her trust. He had to collect himself for a moment, taken aback by the Claire Dearing pout on the little girls lips. 

Owen had no doubt that he would be gentle. He grew up with a younger sister who loved having her hair brushed by anyone who offered. From the day she had enough hair to comb through she would sit in front of him and let him trace over blonde silk until she fell asleep in his lap. 

It had been a long time since he brushed his sister’s hair but Owen was confident that he still had the magic touch Lorna preferred over their mother. 

Winnie hummed to the songs when they played, off key and fanciful. He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing small sections, scared that he would encounter a knot. The last thing he wanted was to pull her hair. Owen’s attention kept wavering between concentrating on the task, and loosing himself in the Disney film she had put on. 

‘Daddy says this song is wrong.’ She told him, Mother Gothel signing _Mother Knows Best_ , Winnie humming with it. Owen frowned. He didn’t know Claire’s situation with Winnie’s father, he couldn’t pass judgement. But surely there was something wrong in a man telling his daughter that. Sure, the song was a little conceited when he listened - and he may be a man, but he knew the story of Rapunzel. 

Mother Gothel was manipulating Rapunzel into staying in her tower, never leaving, never discovering the world - and ultimately never uncovering the truth of herself. The song, to knowing adults, conveyed all of her lies. That was the irony. Mother, in this case - Gothel - didn’t know best. But, mother in every meaning of the word for the little girls of the film’s audience; knew best. 

‘He’s wrong.’ She told him and Owen could hear the pout. The worry still simmered in his thoughts. Owen didn’t like the idea of a man who poisoned the thoughts of a little girl. Especially when it concerned her admiration of her mother. 

Claire Dearing was not the perfect mother. Owen knew that just off the basis of two interactions with her and Winnie. She seemingly never saw the girl, and as of the moment he was sitting in - she was late. It wasn’t enough to form a full opinion, but he did so anyway. Any parent is good for a child so long as they were around - or at least he liked to think so. Owen was slightly biased, his parents had been together his whole life. 

He could understand Winnie’s father’s opinion, his harsh awakening for the little girl. Maybe he was trying to prepare her for a mother who was never around, and even when she was she was still hard to reach. Owen wanted to give Claire the benefit of the doubt, wanted to understand that maybe she was useless with the girl in general, or was frightened of hurting her. _Anything_. 

The annoyance still bubbled. 

Where was she? 

The movie ended before he knew it, Owen sinking into the film with Winnie curled against his side. They had stopped in the middle for a minute, Winnie getting up to find a blanket while Owen called Control in search for Claire. He didn’t have her number, or Zara’s. Not private connections that would patch him straight through rather than having to leave a message before being contacted later. Maybe he should have done that. It would likely have gotten him a response faster. 

‘I’m hungry,’ Winnie complained, telling him that her tummy was growling. Owen wanted to tell her that they had just eaten, until he noticed the time that had passed. It was nearing five pm. He wandered into Claire’s kitchen, and started rifling through her cupboards in search of something to get the girl. A sandwich would do until her mother got home.

When he couldn’t find anything simplistic enough for a kid Owen moved towards a meal. He spotted a few basics he knew well enough to throw together. An early dinner would do. The kid was four, surely she had a bedtime coming up soon. 

Winnie helped him. Listening to Owen’s instructions as he pulled a few things out of the pantry and meat from the fridge. He was happy for the helper, so used to cooking in his bungalow on his own. It was almost odd to have an assistant, especially a quiet one who just nodded and did as he said. 

If he had ever thought about it. Owen would have thought a child joining him in the kitchen would be loud and messy and full of laughs. Winnie laughed, but she was not messy or loud. Which, Owen supposed, was likely a good thing. 

She did chat to him aimlessly, small snippets of things that stuck to the back of his head, making the man laugh. 

_‘My name’s short for Winifred. What’s your name short for?’_ The question had been so pure, so innocent, asked so nonchalantly as though everyone had long names and most only went by the shorter ones. She was on to something, but hadn’t quite perfected her grasp. 

He couldn’t help the chuckle. ‘ _Just Owen. It’s not short for anything.’_

Sometime, as they cooked, he had shortened Winnie to Win making the girl giggle and giggle that she had _three names_ now and it would start to get hard to keep track of if her name kept shrinking itself. 

Claire managed to step through the door, heels clacking in the foyer just as he served Winnie a bowl of Spaghetti Bolognese. 

‘Oh wow, you didn’t have to do that.’ Claire grinned as she stepped around the corner, stopping beside her daughter, her hand on the girl’s back. Owen just stared at her. Not a single hair was out of place on her head. She didn’t look rushed, or frantic there was no sign that she had been desperate to get home to her daughter, apologetic that she was late. 

He had been with the girl for five hours, and by the looks of Claire it had been a minute in her world.   
  
Owen shrugged, ‘Sure, I did. She was hungry.’ He nodded towards the child who was slurping spaghetti into her mouth like someone would take it off her in a heartbeat. ‘I didn’t know where the _hell_ you were.’ He grunted at her, annoyance seeping through his words causing Claire to frown. Winnie didn’t pay them any mind, he could beat she barely heard them over her focus on the food in front of her. 

Claire had bristled, stepping away from her daughter and back towards the foyer where she intended for Owen to follow. ‘Where _were_ you Claire?’ He asked, irritation still ringing true as he told her he called just about every person in Control that he could. Which wasn’t a lot of people. None of them could pinpoint where she was, or her personal line. 

‘I had meetings,’ She told him bluntly, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Owen shook his head. ‘No, you had _one_ meeting and then you were coming back here to spend time with your kid.’ There were so many things he wanted to say. He _liked_ her, knew she was a good person underneath but couldn’t believe that she had seemingly ditched her daughter with a complete stranger. Claire couldn’t even stand him most of the time, yet she was willing to leave her daughter in his care for an extended period of time. 

‘My job is important, Mr Grady.’ She blinked as if it was the most easy thing in the world. 

Owen rolled his eyes at her formal use of his name. ‘What about your daughter?’ Surely Winnie came first for some things. She was Claire’s lifeblood, her own living and breathing child. Didn’t she want to spend _some_ time with her?

He watched her hesitate, something falling loose from her perfect exterior. It was an easy twitch of her eye, and wobble of her thin lipped expression. ‘That’s why she lived with her father.’ 

Owen sighed, shaking his head as he collected his keys and wallet from the small table beside her hip. ‘She’s a great kid, Claire. You should get to know her a little. Win’d like that.’ He turned, only to seek the girl out at the kitchen bench, ruffling her hair gently and saying goodbye for the night. He would not walk out of her life silently. 

Claire stood stock still in the foyer, barely blinking as he returned and moved past her, her arms crossed low over her stomach. 

[…]

He had left a note with Zara two days later, apologising for barging in on her life when he had no right. Owen was sure that he had stepped over a line somewhere. He was tired and a little frustrated. He told Zara to let Claire know that he would always be free if she needed him to watch Winnie for an _hour_ or _two._ Longer arrangements pended on the day. 

He had enjoyed himself with the girl’s quiet company and wanted her mother to know he was still a willing option if she couldn’t find anyone else she would prefer. He heard nothing. Saw nothing, either. 

Owen had crossed paths with Winnie in the hallway of Control but the girl didn’t see him, her head down as she was being lead around by a woman he didn’t recognise. His heart had practically stopped in his chest when he saw her, before beating erratically as though he had never been alive. 

Owen almost ran to her. He didn’t. 

A few days of silence turned into a few weeks. Two at the most, but it had felt like an eternity to him. Owen spotted Claire’s car out by the raptor paddock, dread sinking in his gut, terrified that he had forgotten a report. He had been on top of them, weekly, using them as an excuse to see her or the girl. It hadn’t worked. Claire Dearing was suddenly unreachable. 

There was an intern behind him, talking to a junior trainer Owen didn’t even know the name of. Their topic of conversation was Claire and more specifically; Winnie. 

‘Who would have thought the ice queen’s womb could sustain life.’ One chuckled, Owen trying hard not to growl in front of them as his eyes scanned the paddock in search of Claire. 

‘Right? Poor kid probably has no personality thanks to her Ma. Bitch probably sucked it out of her before she was born.’ The other responded and this time Owen let a gruttal noise out from the depths of his throat. 

He pushed off the crates he was leaning against, moving for Claire’s car with purpose. He was sure he saw something move in the window. If she was trying to talk herself into coming out and seeing him, he would catch her before she was prepared. 

The front seat was empty by the time he got close enough to see clearly. Owen almost turned back and headed for the small office when he saw Winnie’s little face press to the glass, excitement etched across her cheeks. 

So what if his step picked up a little, Owen almost moving into a slight jog as he reached the car in four long strides and pulled the back door open. ‘Owen!’ She grinned, happy for a friendly face as she launched herself at him, her small arms tightening around his neck. ‘I missed you,’ She told him with her mother’s pout, a small finger tapping at his chin. 

He asked if he could tell her a secret in a quiet voice. Winnie only nodded, blue-green eyes wide as she waited. ‘I missed you too.’ It was ridiculous. They were living off one afternoon together and yet the girl had professed her feelings first. Who was he to not follow along regardless of if it was true or not. ‘What are you doing in the car?’ 

‘She can hear them at night, they scare her.’ Claire’s voice sounded behind him, something smug tingling in her tone. He turned to look at her, somewhat guilty, little girl clinging to his next. Claire nodded towards the paddock, mouthing dinosaurs, despite the fact that Winnie likely knew what they were talking about. 

Owen hummed, ‘Are the dinosaurs scary?’ He asked Winnie, watching her face closely. 

She shrugged, sinking in his arms as she buried her head against his neck. ‘Daddy says they eat’d people.’ Owen looked to Claire, _she did have a point._

‘Well, he’s not _wrong._ But, all the creatures in the main part of the park are completely safe.’ Winnie looked at him like he was lying to her. ‘I promise you.’ It was a small lie. Sometimes the assets got out, but mostly they were harmless and contained without issue. They would have a problem if it were the T-Rex, though. Winnie didn’t need to know that. ‘Do you want to meet the raptors?’ She shook her head for a second before she paused, Owen sure that her decision was final when she nodded softly. 

Claire gave him a terrified look, sure that if he gave her daughter nightmares he could be the one to settle her. Owen was more than willing. All she had to do was ask. He could sense Claire’s hesitation as they moved for the paddock, her eyes settling on the raptors held in their gates, rather than running about their enclosed space. 

Winnie had decided to walk, moving between her mother and Owen as the paddock grew taller the closer she got. She grabbed hold of Owen’s hand when Claire walked ahead, practically trying to climb him as he hoisted her back up onto his hip. 

She was panicking as he stepped into the prep space, four velociraptor heads locked into harnesses. Barry was in the corner with Delta trying hard to pay his friend no mind. Owen introduced her to each raptor, Winnie tucking her head under his chin. 

He picked Echo out of the four, knowing she was the calmer one in comparison to her siblings. He pressed his hand to the side of her face, watching as the raptor breathed, curious eyes on them. ‘Do you want to give her a pat, Win?’ He asked, the girl rigid in his arms. She shook her head. ‘Look, Ma’ll do it.’ He nodded to Claire who suddenly turned wide frightened eyes to him. Owen winked. She had this. 

He removed his hand from the animal to gently lock it around Claire’s wrist, guiding her gently, prepared to tug her away if Echo decided to act out. Claire laughed a sigh of relief when she touched the raptor with no resulting consequence. 

Winnie, suddenly brave in his arms, asked to do as her mother did, half leaning out of his grip to reach for the raptor. Claire didn’t watch her daughter, instead she watched Owen’s concentrated face, the man on guard in case anything went wrong. She couldn’t look as her toddler pressed her hand to smooth scales where teeth could so easily take her hand. 

He walked them back to Claire’s car, Winnie still on his hip, the girl content there as he asked where she had been coyly, admitting that he was looking for her. ‘I took a few days … to spend with Winnie and to organise a routine.’ She admitted quietly, opening the back door so he could slip her daughter in. 

‘I’m glad to hear it,’ He smiled, nodding softly as Winnie squeezed his neck one last time before dropping into her carseat. 

Claire fidgeted in front of him, keys dangling in her hands. ‘I, ah - we were wondering. Well, I got your note. And, I talked with Winnie, and we just - she - I was curious to know if you would like to watch her on Tuesday afternoons. It’d be for a couple of hours. And I know it’s your only day off, but I’m willing to compensate you for your time.’ Owen shook his head, raising a hand for Claire to stop. 

‘Don’t worry about it, Claire.’ He wanted to take back the frustration he had previously expressed to her. ‘I’m happy to. She’s great.’ 

Claire hummed, smile pulling at her lips, pride practically worn on her sleeve. ‘She really is.’ 

[…] 

He and Winnie developed a routine after that. Tuesdays were Owen and Win days, and the little girl looked forward to them with so much gusto Claire couldn’t help but grin when he walked in the door. 

They explored the park a week at a time, Winnie not willing to go without him. She clung to his arm, Owen lifting her off the ground as they walked steering well clear of the T-Rex and the Mosasaurus tank, which proved hard to avoid but the girl promised she was okay so long as he didn’t mention what the Mosasaurus was exactly. 

The weeks alternated, some mornings he was on time, some afternoons Claire was late. Claire cooked breakfast, Owen cooked dinner - or ordered. They explored the park, or they stayed indoors. She asked to watch Disney films, and he rediscovered his childhood. 

Winnie was quick to laugh at everything, sweet little giggles falling from her like a piece of meteorite. She found her comfort with him quickly, the small girl finding her place beside him, and on him. She was a climber, Owen noticed, like a puppy trying to find a warm place to sleep. She couldn’t just sit next to him, she had to tuck herself under his arm, or curl up in his lap, she even knelt beside him to rest her head on his shoulder. 

Her behaviour wasn’t restricted to sitting around. She scaled him like a tree when they were out too. There was nothing Winnie didn’t walk away from without seeing it first. She hung from his back, arms locked around his neck. She sat on his shoulders, his hands holding onto her legs as she pulled his hair. 

Winifred wasn’t the only one who’d grown comfortable with having him around. Claire name was a constant on his phone, new messages sometimes at ten minute intervals, filling him in on her daughter’s day. 

He kept handing his reports in on time, delivering them to Claire personally on Friday afternoons. Half of it was an excuse to see her, but also to defend an excuse he had used once. The interoffice postal service was unreliable and they were purposefully loosing his reports. That was a lie. But, it paired off easily with a warm joke, and an excuse to see Winnie on a day that wasn’t Tuesday. 

The excitement on her face when he showed up unexpectedly was always worth it.

‘I’m testing out an old family recipe tonight. You should come over, make sure I don’t mess it up.’ Claire offered, the invitation slipping out of her without her knowledge. She looked shocked for a second, her own words catching her off guard before she shook her head just like Winnie. 

Owen grinned, watching the expression on her face morph from horror to acceptance. He shrugged, hands in his pockets, as he grinned at her. ‘Yeah, sure, I guess. Can’t have you ruining a perfectly good dinner, again.’ He joked, marvelling in the way she smirked, eyes rolling.

It had become a running joke, Claire’s constant mishaps in the kitchen. She wasn’t the worst cook to offer him a plate, but she had her faults. Humorous ones at that, enough that the pizza place on the island now knew their delivery the second her number flashed on their system. 

Winnie greeted him loudly when he knocked on Claire’s door later that night. He could hear her squealing from down the hall. She opened the door mismatched items of her wardrobe. T-Shirt, and tutu, rainbow stockings and gumboots. There were long chains of costume jewellery hanging from her neck and the brightest grin on her face.

She threw herself at him without a word, Owen catching her halfway. ‘Winifred Dearing!’ Her mother’s voice scolded, Claire standing just in sight of the two of them. Owen shrugged as Winnie looked to him for back up, not sure what to do. 

‘It’s all right.’ He told Claire, informing her that he was Win’s personal climbing frame. Claire scolded the girl none the less. Win didn’t listen. She dropped to her feet and disappeared as Owen greeted Claire with a friendly kiss to the cheek providing her with flowers and a bottle of wine - both of which had survived Winnie. 

Claire grinned, thanking him with a fond smile as she marvelled at how in-sync he and Winnie were. They didn’t speak, and yet the girl knew to be mindful of the flowers, he knew when to catch her and when to let her down. It was a base instinct Claire had to fight to learn. 

The flowers and wine weren’t new. Well, the flowers were fresh, and the wine he’d picked up from the store. It was a routine they’d picked up from the first time he’d organised to stay for dinner on a Tuesday night. Owen taking Winnie out to pick some flowers for her mother who had to work late, and Owen explaining that they needed a bottle of red. 

He hummed when they stepped into the kitchen, Owen spotting the recipe on the counter. It wasn’t anything too ambitious, just an old lasagna recipe that he had no doubt she would be capable of recreating perfectly. 

‘That’s why I wanted you to come over a little earlier,’ She nodded, setting the flowers up in vase. They had already established that he would help, unspoken between them. 

Owen winked at her. ‘I thought it was because you wanted more time in my company.’ He chuckled at the way she blushed, his hand skirting across her hip as he stepped around her and called out for Win. She watched him command her home with tender care, calling out for her daughter to join them in making dinner. 

Claire couldn’t help the way her heart beat in her chest, fond warmth spreading over her shoulders and chasing down her spine. He fit into the empty spaces of her puzzle, just as Winnie always should have. Her connection with her daughter had been disconnected from the very beginning. Claire rarely ventured out to see her, more to do with fear than anything else. Having Winnie with her for the past handful of weeks, filled holes in Claire she never knew needed to be filled. Owen, here and now seemed to be doing the exact same thing. 

It terrified her. 

‘I really wish you wouldn’t shorten her already shortened name.’ Claire chuckled, not deaf to Owen’s nickname for the girl. _Win_. 

Owen grinned, turning his body into hers, cocky all over. ‘What?’ He mocked innocence, ‘That’s what nicknames are for. Every kid gets like ten. Besides, she likes it when I call her Win.’ He teased causing Claire to roll her eyes again. ‘C’mon, you have to have a secret nickname for her.’ Owen laughed, nudging at her side. ‘What is it?’ 

‘Mommy calls me Freddie sometimes, and Lady Bug!’ Winnie outed her mother, giggling behind the kitchen counter as Claire rolled her eyes. 

She wouldn’t win, not against Owen and certainly not against her daughter. Although, Claire liked the challenge. They had provided her with a change of pace and a new outlook. She’d learnt to slow down, and explain things in a often childlike way in order to see the world on the same level as Winifred. The girl was always thankful for that. 

As for Owen, he was opening her eyes to a world she was still too scared to face. One that had burnt her on different occasions and in different ways. There was no immunity to love and relationships of any form. Silently, without knowing, he was giving her courage, want and need. She’d not had desire for anyone in a long time, not since Andrew and long before Winnie. 

Claire had promised herself that she wouldn’t approach it. The thing that was bubbling between them could continue to do so until the heat was lost as the simmer ceased. She was sure that it was just a primal need she had never previously connected with. An urge sparked by witnessing the man care for her daughter. He was so gentle with her, so kind and caring. Owen always had a minute for Winnie if she ever asked for it. His dedication made her heart skip a beat. The way he got down on Win’s level, playing with dolls or painting her nails. 

The sight of Owen Grady, folded in on himself on the kitchen floor, painting her daughter’s tiny fingers pink still warmed her heart. She’d been promising the girl for days, and had managed to run out of day light hours for four evenings in a row. Clearly Winnie had grown tired of waiting and asked Owen instead. 

He’d poured so much concentration in getting her tiny little nails that his tongue was poking out the side of his mouth. She’d watched them, leaning against a cabinet for a moment, neither man nor child paying any mind to her as she grinned. 

Owen had given her memories she would never forget. His time with her wouldn’t last long. Claire already knew that. Winnie would have to go home soon, and with that she would ruin the comfortable air that had built up between them. 

Claire watched them, Owen instructing Win in dicing onions slowly and with complete precision. He had wrapped his arm around her back to guide the girl with the knife until he felt secure in her handling. 

She squealed with laughter as Owen wiped tomato paste across her cheek. The sound echoed through Claire’s modest apartment, clearing out the dark spaces of her usually empty home. Claire was still unaccustomed to Winnie’s presence as weeks passed, turning into months.

The girl got Owen back, although Claire noted that he allowed it, swiping what would be part of their dinner later across his face. Winnie’s giggles were well worth a little mess, her head thrown back laugh ripe in her throat. 

She watched until they beckoned her in, asking for her help as Owen followed the recipe. Claire admired them from beside the action, incapable of wiping the grin off her face. This was what she wanted. The warmth of family meals and her little girl’s laughter. 

[…]

Winnie was the reason for everything. 

In particular, the reason why Claire Dearing found herself driving towards Owen Grady’s bungalow in anticipation for dinner. Never had she ventured out there for anything more than to shove a handful of paperwork at his chest before storming off again. This time, Winnie had orchestrated the whole thing, asking kindly why Owen always came to them and why they never went to him. 

Claire couldn’t argue, and Owen, who tried to protest in order to protect Claire for whatever reason, couldn’t hold up a disagreement with the girl either. Instead, he promised dinner when Winnie beat him down shrugging apologetically towards Claire, who only sighed, her eyes rolling slightly at the impossibility of her child. 

They greeted her with animation, both Owen and Winnie the second she shut her car door. The fly screen of his bungalow flying open in the setting sunlight as Winnie shot out of it excitedly greeting her mother.

‘What are you covered in?’ Claire asked with a laugh as she hoisted her daughter up onto her hip Winnie’s dress covered in dustings of flour. She knew, of course, but asked the girl anyway in an attempt to bridge conversation on her afternoon. 

‘We made ‘sert!’ Winnie squealed, glee bursting across her face like blooming flowers in the spring.‘But, dinner first.’ Her face morphed into a semi-serious frown for a second before her giggles let loose again. 

Claire looked up to see Owen standing in the doorway, security screen propped open with his foot. He was covered in flour just as Winnie was, grinning by the door as he watched them. Owen couldn’t help but reminisce caught in a sunset daydream on what it would be like to have her come home to him like that every night; warm light set behind her, little girl giggling on her hip. He had called it a day on dreaming about families and happy lives, content to live out his research with the velociraptors, venturing off island on occasion. 

Owen played with the local girls, luring them in and catching them for a night. Nothing was serious; it never lasted any longer than redressing in the morning and sneaking out. He never entertained the idea of obtaining phone numbers or calling them back. There was no second date or potential future. He was thirty-five, and although the game wasn’t completely up for him, Owen was just as good as retired on the idea of settling down. There was something in Winnie and Claire that changed his mind. 

‘Welcome home, honey.’ He teased, watching the way Claire’s eyelashes fluttered and her cheeks flushed. She rolled her eyes at him as his grin deepened, Claire meeting him on the porch, Winnie talking her mother’s ear off. 

They were both in a clearly playful mood, Owen and Winnie feeding off each other - Claire indulging them both as she allowed Owen to kiss her on the cheek as he welcomed her into his bungalow. Claire tried not to focus on the way her skin tingled, warmth spreading across her cheeks as she stepped inside. She blamed the sudden colour on humidity, the warmth of the day sizzling down to cooler temperatures and the baked setting of Owen’s kitchen, oven on hot, something steaming on the stove. 

She settled Winnie down on a stool at the kitchen counter, Owen going back to his cooking as Claire asked the little girl about their day. Owen had become her knight in shining armour in a month and a half. He did everything the little girl asked and everything she could dream. He went above and beyond to keep her entertained on his day off. Claire could not put into words how impressed she was with his effort and care Winnie never had a bad day with him, only ever returned home with stories of playgrounds and dinosaurs and Owen caving to her puppy dog pout. 

Owen went overboard with dinner, producing a lavish meal Claire was worried Winnie wouldn’t touch. He sat them at a small dining table that he had early professed he had to clear off in order to make room for them to eat.

Winnie sat quietly, eating her dinner in small bites as she listened to the adults converse. They were halfway through their meal when she stared at her plate, adults unaware that she had stopped stuck on a thought. ‘My daddy’s got a girlfriend,’ Winnie frowned at her plate, staring daggers at her green beans. ‘She wants to be my mommy, but I already got one. Are you gonna have to go away now?’ She dragged her eyes towards her mother, small fright flashing in them as her bottom lip wobbled. 

Claire only stared at her daughter; her cutlery dropped to her plate with a subtle clank as her hands shook. She didn’t know what to say, what was there to say when a child already had their fears. That ultimately was what Claire wanted for her daughter. A mother and father who could love her simultaneously. If Andrew had found someone new, that was good - great even. Except, now she was attached. This was what she wanted when Winnie was an infant, not a toddler with her own thoughts and forming opinions; now Claire wasn’t so sure. 

‘She’s not going anywhere,’ Owen was the one to reassure the girl, his hand sliding across the table to grip Claire’s. He was giving her strength with a squeeze of his hand; he didn’t even know her story, and yet he was willing to help, going above and beyond for no other reason than he chose to. 

Claire wanted to dispute it, to tell her young daughter to run for the hills this was her opportunity for a good life. She couldn’t, not when Owen held such faith in her, not when he told her daughter that she wasn’t going anywhere. There was no reason to run when her daughter believed her feet were firmly planted right where they were. 

Winnie had hummed a soft ‘ _good_ ’ before she turned back to her dinner, letting silence eat at them until Owen squeezed Claire’s hand one last time before letting go. 

‘You know, even if I can’t be with you all the time. I’m still here for you. Your dad will never stop you from calling me.’ No matter how vast their differences were Andrew insisted on keeping the lines of communication open especially once Winnie started forming full sentences able to speak with her mother without having to decode each word. He thought her attempts to rid herself from her daughter’s life was just as ridiculous as her decision to work for Masrani Global. It made him a little bitter, but he wanted her to be a part of the life they created. 

Claire shook her head collecting her thoughts as she smiled at her daughter warmly. She had been absent before, wilfully and now her little girl was trying to ensure that she was never absent again. 

Owen changed the subject, turning it back to Winnie and her ability to talk endlessly on any particular topic. He had educated her on the ins and outs of his comic book collection earlier when she helped him clean out his bungalow; superheroes were now an obsession. 

They remained at the table even after their food was finished, Winnie pulling out a board game they had smuggled from Claire’s apartment in anticipation of an after dinner game. She grew bored of it quickly leaving the adults to play while she was distracted by the TV. 

[…]

They settled on Owen’s couch glass of red wine in their hands as Claire tucked her legs under her and curled into the corner. Owen was glad to see her relax, her shoulders settled, defences down. The last thing he wanted was to have her in his home and on edge. She was a wild animal he wanted so desperately to tame, not to control her but to have her know he wouldn’t hurt her. 

She had refrained from bolting for the door the second Winnie showed signs of drowsiness. The girl knocked herself out, watching a Disney film on his couch before Owen and Claire retired to the wine. 

‘Can I ask about Win?’ Owen questioned, his voice soft. The light around them was dim, enough to make her sleepy had she not been focused on every second that passed her. 

Claire hummed, glass raised to her lips. Owen couldn’t help but notice the hesitancy before she looked at him, ‘What do you want to know?’ Owen shrugged, willing to hear anything Claire had to offer. She worried the necklace around her neck between her fingers for a moment, a silver bar with the slightest of engravings on it. Owen could bet it contained Winnie’s name. Funny, how he had never noticed a detail as small as that before, and had never seen her without it on. 

He watched the gears tick in her head, Claire sucking in a deep breath and holding it for a second. ‘I was offered a position here at Jurassic World, the same day I found out I was pregnant.’ She twirled the stem of her glass between her fingers never once raising her eyes to Owen. ‘I was on the phone to Simon Masrani himself while I waited for the results to show up on the home pregnancy test in my office. From the get go it was Winnie or my career.’ 

What had seemed to have been an easy decision on Claire’s behalf years ago, now came across as a hard one. Owen had judged too soon, assessing the situation based on what he knew of Claire. Despite her general misunderstanding of children and a rocky start to begin with, choosing her daughter over her job was still a hard story to tell. 

‘I never thought I would have children.’ Claire sighed, ‘So, getting rid of her just like that seemed ridiculous. Even though I wasn’t sure if I wanted her or not, aborting the embryo suddenly wasn’t an option. All I could think was _“what if this is my only chance?”_ I didn’t want to get where I am now and suddenly want children with no ability to have them.

‘I made that decision on my own. I knew I had to know what I wanted to do before I told Andrew - her father. If I hadn’t have made up my mind it would be game over; there would be no way he would let me get an abortion unless my life was on the line.’ Claire had to admit the man had a little compassion. They had loved each other once upon a time, and although they could barely manage a phone call for Winnie’s, their hearts had started in the right place. 

‘Masrani Global put my position on standby pending on a decision. They gave me time to think about it throughout my pregnancy and for a couple of weeks after Winnie was born. Andrew hoped I would forget about it. But, I didn’t - nor did Masrani. In fact, the idea that I had a child and would start work at his park as a new mother was only more appealing. He’s a family man at heart, hoped I would bring a _woman’s touch_ to the assets and the team in Control.’ 

‘For Andrew, it was family or work. He refused to entertain the idea of moving to Costa Rica; it wasn’t going to happen on his end despite the fact that we had months to decide. I took the job; I’ve worked _hard_ to get where I was. No matter how much I loved Winnie I couldn’t stay in Madison running IT business’. So, I packed up my things, and I left my daughter behind. She was …’ Claire paused trying to remember the exact details. ‘Three and a half months old. It took me a long time to push the guilt out of my thoughts. I thought that maybe she would be better without me, maybe Andrew would find someone new and give Winnie what she needed. He had always wanted her more than I did, it only made sense to leave her with him. It wouldn’t be far on Winnie, forcing her to live with me when Andrew could offer her more.’ 

‘But,’ Claire stuttered, her focus on the girl sleeping on the couch beside them. ‘Having her here on Isla Nublar - I can’t help but think about how different it would have been, how much I missed her. Andrew and I , we were falling apart. He was never going to move to Central America but,’ She closed her eyes, exhaling heavily. ‘I could have fought for some agreement. I don’t know.’ She shook her head, letting her eyes flutter open as she rubbed at her temple. 

Owen was quiet. He took in every word she offered as though it would be his only opportunity to gleam some insight into the Dearing’s lives. He hummed when she finished, letting the air still between them dust settling back onto the memories Claire had of her baby daughter and the decisions she had to make for her. 

‘I feel like such an idiot, now.’ She told him, regretting the choices she made. How could she have been so blind to the love she harboured for Winifred. Claire was caught at a crossroad, leaving Winnie with Andrew had been a good decision he raised her well and treated her like the little princess she dreamed of being. She had a normal life away from dinosaurs and living at a theme park. There wasn’t much else Claire could have offered her in social experiences like Andrew had. 

Owen shook his head. ‘You made a decision you felt was right at the time.’ No grievous harm had befallen her daughter. For that, Claire could be thankful. She was loved, spoilt and had every opportunity she could ask for at the tips of her fingers. ‘I don’t think Winnie can hate you for that. If anything, Claire, I think the universe is throwing you a bone - giving you time with her. Use this as a means for decision making. She’ll go home when Andrew has healed but you’ll know then how much more of her you want to see. No one is going to blame you for wanting to spend time with her, even if previously you refrained.’ 

She didn’t know what she wanted. She barely knew what to do with the child at four-years-old, how would she manage when she started school, when she became a teenager? How would she and Andrew organise schedules? 

Claire wanted it to work. She didn’t know in what capacity but she was certain that she wanted a future with the little girl.

‘Well, I hope you know I’m here if you ever need a second set of hands.’ She was learning to acknowledge that. Owen was there to help, to offer kind guidance when she needed it the most. She wondered if he knew that he was doing it, taking the reigns while Claire thought she was still in control. He never once overpowered her, or second guessed a decision she had made. 

Owen had no need in aiding her. He didn’t have to watch Winnie on Tuesdays and as their weeks turned into months Claire half expected him to call it quits. Instead, he loved her daughter spoiling the girl with sweet treats and toys.

She thanked him, every chance she got, whispering the words over her daughter’s head as they made the exchange in the mornings or the afternoons. He only ever told her it was no problem, praising the personality and manners of her child. 

Claire couldn’t pinpoint why he was doing it. Why he was being kind when he didn’t have to be. Why he was allowing both Winnie and herself into his home where he had prepared a meal for them. Winnie had asked, but he didn’t have to. He didn’t have to carry her sleeping daughter to the car after he offered selflessly for the girl and her mother to stay the night. And, he certainly didn’t have to kiss her cheek warmly as she turned to thank him once again, his hand large and warm on the small of her back as he touched his lips to her skin. 


	2. Chapter 2

Owen found Win’s doll, ticked under the desk in the office shared by the raptor handlers. They’d spent their Tuesday the day before checking in on his girls, Owen needing to rectify something in his paperwork - that he’d left at the paddock.  


Rapunzel grinned back at him with wide green eyes and her long blonde hair. In a space of three months, Win had trapped him into watching that movie countless times. Owen had to admit, he enjoyed it. 

He knew, without a doubt that Win would be missing her doll. He could faintly remember a text from Claire the night before asking if he’d seen where Winnie had managed to leave her. Owen didn’t recall leaving Claire’s apartment with it. Clearly, he had been wrong. 

It would take nothing to drop the doll back to Win before he headed home for the night. The little girl would adore him for returning her toy, and in turn it gave him an opportunity to see Win and her mother. If Owen was lucky - and he did like to count himself as a lucky man - he might catch them just as they’ve changed for the night.

Owen had caught them in their pyjamas a few times, much to his delight. It was Claire who amused him, snug in Peter Alexander, teddies making up the pattern, her hair loose, her make-up gone. It was wrong of him to think it, but all he wanted was to curl up with her like that and never let her go.

He knew something was wrong the second Claire pulled the door open. She was dressed in the aforementioned teddy patterned pyjama pants, paired with a grey singlet. Her hair was a frazzled mess, her cheeks burnt pink, her eyes a little out of focus. 

Panic hit him immediately, Claire - no matter how hard Winnie tried - was never dishevelled. In the apartment Winnie called out for her mother, her tiny voice cracking in it’s unusual scratchy texture. She sounded pathetic, a wet, wheezing cough following her begging for Claire to return to her side. 

Owen felt his heart stop. ‘What’s wrong?’ He asked, voice expressing the fear that was coursing through him, speeding like a bullet train up and down his spine, finding his hands and looping around his head. 

A shaky hand scrubbed over her face, pushing her hair out of her eyes. ‘She’s … I don’t know.’ Claire tapped her chest, fingers unable to steady. ‘She’s sick and I don’t know what to do.’ Owen heard the catch in her breath, the angle of the light in the hall glimmered in her unshed tears. Nonverbally he asked to come in, worried for the little girl because he cared and her mother seemed far too distressed. ‘She’s got a temperature,’ Claire explained, running through the small list of symptoms she was capable of identifying. 

_‘I don’t know what to do.’_ She repeated it once, twice, three times. It was panic, and embarrassment and complete desperation. The items in her medicine cabinet were for adults. Claire didn’t know what was appropriate to give hr daughter, if anything - and how much of a dose. 

He moved for Winnie the second he spotted her, curled in a ball on the couch. Her face was patchy and red, eyes puffy thanks to her tears. She whimpered his name when she saw him, her voice raspy. It sounded painful to speak, scratchy and yet wet. ‘ _Owen,’_ She whimpered again, bottom lip rolling as new tears fell, her arms outstretched for him. 

He scooped her up immediately, cradling her to his chest and pressing a caring kiss to her hair.

Owen headed for the bathroom without a word, Claire on his heels. Win pressed her sweaty face into his neck, whimpering as he moved her, body limp in his arms. She cried into his shirt, even that seemed to pain her as Owen reached into the shower and turned the hot water on as high as it would go. 

Claire chastised herself for not thinking about steam earlier. Winnie was very clearly congested, the little girl hawking up wet coughs and complaining that she couldn’t breathe through her nose. She was useless at this. Home remedies and cures. Claire was rarely sick, the pain killers in her cabinet for bad cramps and the occasional headache. 

Owen slid down onto the floor, his back to the wall, Win cradled against his chest. She wheezed an attempt at a deep breath before whimpering burying her head against his t-shirt. ‘When’d she last eat?’ Owen asked Claire softly, his eyes glazed over slightly. 

Winnie had woken up feeling crook, she’d gotten progressively worse across the day. Claire hadn’t even gone into Control. Instead, she stayed home with her daughter curled up on the couch. The last time she’d seen Winnie eat anything was cereal at breakfast. 

He requested chicken soup. Owen didn’t care if she called the control cafeteria, if she went to the restaurants on Main Street or if she made it herself. It had always worked wonders, for as long as he had known. It would work there too. 

She nodded, almost dumbly watching her daughter with breaking eyes before she stepped out of the room and shut the door. 

Owen only steamed them for twenty minutes. Enough that his clothes were saturated with his sweat and Winnie’s. He apologised to the girl softly, kissing her sweaty forehead as he clapped her back twice hoping to shake free the mucus that was clinging to her lungs. She whimpered, her head buried against his neck as she tore away from Owen to cough up what had come loose. 

When they appeared from the bathroom Claire had a clean pair of pyjamas for Winnie. She handed Owen an extra large pair of men’s pyjama pants, explaining that they were hers as he took them with a curious quirk of his eyebrow. He exchanged the girl for dry clothes. 

Claire didn’t have a shirt that would fit him. Owen discarded his henley regardless, not wanting it on his skin any longer. Winnie was returned to him, dressed in a new set of footed pyjamas, still too warm but comfortably clinging to him, her knees gripping his waist. 

Owen was trying to find the use by date on a box of cold and flu medicine. Winnie sat on the kitchen counter leaning into him, one arm supporting her. A knock at the door sent Claire running for it. He recognised the accent of Marco, the head chef from the Control cafeteria. He’d delivered the soup personally - Owen wondered what Claire had told him, or in turn promised him. He doubted it was much, there was no need for tall tales. Winnie had been staying with her for three months and although the girl kept a low profile those who met her loved her. 

‘I need you to eat some of this, okay.’ Claire told the girl, putting the tub of soup on the counter as she brushed the hair from Winnie’s face. Owen tried to ignore how close she was, her hand on his shoulder, inches away from Winnie’s head as she leant in to kiss the girl softly. 

Win shook her head, grumbling quietly, eyes closed against Owen’s arm. ‘This should be okay to give her,’ Owen told her, flashing the box. ‘If we snap it in half.’ 

Claire shook her head, teeth setting into her bottom lip. ‘She won’t swallow that.’ 

Owen grinned, wagging his eyebrows at her as he pressed a tablet out of the foil and snapped it between his hands. It was all powder inside a gel casing, perfect for pouring into a glass of water. It would taste disgusting but Owen could bet Win would do it for him. 

The girl didn’t put up much fight, taking the water dissolved medication and the small bowl of soup her mother handed over. She shifted to her mother once Owen sat her on the couch. The three of them ate quietly, Owen and Claire watching Winnie as she played with her food for the most part. 

When she finished with her soup, bowl completely empty, the girl asked for a story. Owen obliged immediately, asking her which one she wanted. It was a long walk to her room, the girl insisting that she could do it herself, picking out a book from the small collection she had accumulated since her father’s accident. 

Her bed was too small for reading, or so the sleepy girl argued. Instead, they moved to Claire’s room. Owen was hesitant to stretch out on the sheets as Winnie curled up beside him. Claire checked that they were settled, smiling warmly at them both as she left them to it, Owen reading a book adaptation of a popular children’s film. 

The two of them were out like a light not twenty minutes later. Claire left them to clean the dishes, checking in to find Winnie curled up on Owen’s chest, the both of them snoring. Her phone buzzed in the living room, pulling Claire away and snapping the dreamlike state she’d built in her cold induced apartment. 

‘I want her home next week,’ There was no hello from Andrew on the other end of the line, no apology for the growing late hour. Just a demand. He didn’t ask into her wellbeing or Winnie’s. Maybe he should have, his daughter was sick and it had frightened Claire half to death. Then again, if he had known, he would have found out that another man had been there to take care of his daughter as her fever spiked, her chest so congested she could barely breathe. 

She wished things hadn’t turned so sour between them. Claire understood his cause, she hated herself for much the same reason. He never knew when to stop rubbing salt into her wounds, pressing down until she cried out in pain begging for him to stop. Andrew loved to torture her, Winnie his weapon of choice. He never meant it in a malicious way, he just wanted Claire to open her eyes. To realise the things she was missing in her inability to partake in their daughter’s life. He always stopped though, when she sighed on the other end of the phone caught in her own self deprecating thoughts. 

He only grew increasingly frustrated when she had no time to spend with her daughter other than a few small weekends once the girl was a year-and-a-half-old. Claire did the best she was mentally able, he understood on occasion. 

Claire listened, humming occasionally as he told her of the plan. Someone would collected the girl from Jurassic World the following Wednesday and would return her to him. There was no need for Claire to travel, despite the fact that she wanted to. Andrew didn’t care. 

She had paced up and down the hall as he spoke, chewing on the cuticles of her thumb as she nodded to herself. There was a decision sitting heavily on her chest. Claire was almost frightened to say the words, terrified of the backlash that would greet her. 

‘I want to keep her,’ She whispered, shoulder resting against he door jamb. Her eyes were on Winnie and Owen, the two of them knocked out cold after they’d eaten and curled up. She couldn’t help but see the amusement in that. It was Winnie who was sick, not Owen, and yet he filled his belly like the little girl and was drowsy almost immediately. 

He was sprawled out on his back in nothing but the pants she had loaned him. Heat rushed to her cheeks, embarrassed that she had handed them over, and worse that they’d fit him perfectly. She’d never be able to wear them ever again without the thought of Owen. Winnie was curled up on his bare chest like a newborn, sleeping stomach down, her arms and legs splaying from both sides bracketing his chest. Her head sat just under his chin, both of their faces turned towards her, shadows cast across their skin. 

‘I want to keep her here with me.’ 

Claire Dearing was never known for indecisiveness. She had always known what she wanted and went straight for it. There wasn’t a single thing that could have stood in her way. She was headstrong, sometimes too much so - or at least her father had always warned her of it. 

Nothing had ever given her pause until Winnie. Her daughter was only a bunch of cells at the time, not a whole person but a complete idea. 

When Masrani Global offered her a job, Simon himself on the phone as the pregnancy test on her test showed positive; he immediately gave her time to consider his offer. The duration of her pregnancy, plus an additional month after her child was born.

Claire took the time despite believing that she would not need it. She wanted the job. It wasn’t until she delivered her daughter, brand new human been warm against her chest that she started having conflicting thoughts. 

She took all the time Masrani offered, Winifred exactly a month old when Claire confirmed that she would be taking the position at Jurassic World. It took an additional two months for Claire to pack up her things, Isla Nublar eagerly anticipating her arrival. 

She had stroked the downy red hair on her daughter’s head for an hour, caught in an attempt to commit the baby to her memory. Claire had held onto that ghost of her daughter for months, sitting in the rocking chair of Winnie’s nursery in Madison. She still called for it on bad days, fingers playing with the necklace resting against her throat, her daughter’s name engraved into it’s metal. Claire summoned the memory of her baby, of the reasons why she left her in an attempt to remind herself why she was doing what she was doing.  
  
Andrew was the one to push her away. His frustration, as always, her tipping point. He couldn’t understand her deliberation between the wrong decision and the right. For him, it was stay in Madison, family first. For Claire it was hard work falling to waste, her years at college a footnote in her story.

Claire wanted so desperately to tap into some hidden calling, maternal instinct waking in her before she had to leave, changing her mind and her life forever. It wasn’t there. The world was not better with a child in it than what it had been without. Winifred would be better off with her father. 

He let her go but he could not respect her decision. That was what Andrew grappled with; how Claire could chose Jurassic World over Winifred Dearing.

She wanted to revoke her decision, to change now that she had seen a different light.

Claire couldn’t speak for Owen or Winnie but she wanted this. She wanted her little girl safe and warm in her bed, she wanted the loving protective care of a man who would do anything for her child, and for her. Owen didn’t have to do much to prove that he was there for the long haul regardless of if she asked him or not. 

She was willing to put her livelihood on the line, change everything she knew for her daughter when previously Claire hadn’t acknowledged that it was an option.

Andrew scoffed on the other end of the line. ‘Fuck no, Claire.’ She tried to stutter a response but he cut her off. ‘I - I can’t just let you insert yourself into her life whenever you so please. You’ve never been consistent you’re either here or you’re not. She can only take it for so long, Claire. You can call her, you can visit - but you’re not taking _my_ daughter away.’ 

Claire sighed, shake developing in her fingers as a headache settled in her temple. ‘I’m her mother, Andrew.’ She whispered, voice weak and quiet despite her attempts in keeping strength behind it. Her wobbly legs carried her back to the living room, the weight of her heart falling in her chest dropped her to the couch. 

‘Where have you been, Claire? You’re never around what is she supposed to glean from that? You left me in charge of her wellbeing and I’m only trying to protect her.’

She swallowed a sob as she tried to level out her breathing, hand on her face. ‘Having her here, Drew - God, I don’t regret taking this job but, I - I want to _be_ her mother.’ 

‘She’s still coming home next week,’ He told her, Andrew’s voice tired on the other end. ‘We’ll talk about it after that. Look, Claire, I gotta go.’ He hung up without argument leaving Claire to cower on her couch, fighting back the tears that bubbled up her throat. She couldn’t tell if it was relief or distress. 

‘Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.’ Owen’s gruff voice reached her, gravelly with disuse while he dreamed. In the dark light Claire offered him a cheerful smile, crumbling the second her eyes met his. ‘Whoa, whoa. It’s okay, she’s okay, Claire.’ Owen dropped to her side in a second, pulling Claire into his arms, tucking her against his chest just as he had done for her daughter. He tried to soothe her with reassurances that Win was okay - Claire already knew that, feeling stupid for crying in front of him. 

If he had given her ten more minutes she wouldn’t have crumbled, her resolve would have stayed sound. She could compartmentalise this, just as she had done so many other things. This was for the best. Winnie didn’t need her full time, she never did. Just as she had cried like a little girl her first night at Jurassic World; she was hormonal. Nothing more than that. 

Andrew was an ass to Claire, but he loved Winnie, he looked after her. It didn’t exactly excuse his behaviour. 

Claire only cried harder. _She wanted this_. Owen pressed a kiss to her cheek, holding his lips to her skin for seconds too long as the tears rolled through the floodgates and the words followed. She told him about Andrew, where they began, where they ended and where they met in the middle for Winnie. 

‘Are you sure you want to keep her?’ He asked after she’d practically laid out her life story. Claire nodded, sniffling into her wrist. ‘Go for it. Claire, even if you only get partial custody it’s more than nothing. You’ve still fought for her. That’ll mean more to Winnie than anything else. So what if you didn’t try before, you were pressured into something you didn’t want and it took you a long time to realise you wanted it. She’s only four. You’ve got the rest of her life with her. You can do this. I know you can, and I will help in anyway that I can.’

She was tucked under his arm, the two of them talking into the dark of her living room, not looking at each other. Owen felt her move, thought she was sitting up to look at his face. By the time he realised that wasn’t his intention Claire had straddled his lap and held his mouth in a fierce kiss. 

Claire was unapologetic, expressing a feeling she had felt bubbling for far too long a time. Owen was willing, accepting, one hand slipping around her waist while the other threaded through her hair. Both hands kept her pressed to him, Claire sighing against his mouth. 

He was ready to be a drowning man. The damn had broke and Owen was determined to do nothing to fix it, instead greeting her kiss for kiss, humming into her skin as his hands roamed her body greedily. He wasn’t letting her go, not now, not ever. Metaphorically at least, physically, he had to. 

‘Owen?’ A little voice called out to them, small body loitering in the hallway. They broke apart easily, Owen moving for the girl without hesitation, scooping her up and carrying her back to bed. Claire followed, not making a peep as he passed Winnie’s door. ‘Mama?’ She whimpered when Owen settled her in her mother’s bed once again. 

Her little arm reached for her mother, Claire taking it before climbing onto the bed and settling down beside her daughter. Owen brushed fire red hair out of Win’s warm face before he kissed her head and stepped away. He was headed for the door when Claire called for him, repeating the action her daughter had - arm outstretched. Owen responded just as she did, taking hold of her hand and climbing into the bed with her. 

[…] 

‘We had a sleepover,’ Win giggled, smiling at him her nose inches from his as he woke. She was on the pillows above his head, leaning over his face as she grinned. Owen was disorientated for a moment, confused as to why the little girl was in his face and how she had gotten there.

A weight stirred in his arms followed by a grumble and suddenly he realised what he was curled around. Claire.

Owen shushed the girl quietly, nodding to her mother still snoozing in his arms. They hadn’t fallen asleep like that. At some point Winnie climbed between them sending both adults to either ends of the bed. She was curled into him, facing his chest, her head tucked under his chin. 

Apparently he had found her in his sleep and held on tight. 

Win nodded softly, quick with direction. ‘Did she get sad in the night?’ The girl asked, quickly following with an explanation. There was always cuddles for her in the night if she was upset. Owen hummed pairing it with a nod as his only answer. ‘We have to wake her nicely.’ She told him, smacking her lips. 

He hummed again, sound vibrating in the back of his throat as he looked down at Claire. There was no way he could pull away from her without waking her. Had he not wound himself so tightly around her small frame he would have suggested meeting Win in the kitchen for a quiet breakfast until Claire woke properly. That wasn’t going to happen. ‘What should we do?’ 

Win tapped her cheek with a small finger, thinking with action melodramatically. Owen took that moment to reach out, touching his hand to her forehead to check the girl’s temperature. She’d been burning up the night before, skin too hot for comfort as she had whimpered against his chest. Winnie was still a little too warm for his liking, but not as bad as it had been the night before. 

‘Kisses!’ She whispered. ‘Mommy wakes me up with kisses.’ Owen couldn’t help the slight chuckle that bubbled in his throat, his eyes on Claire’s sleeping face. He contemplated how Claire would respond if for a second he kissed her without her knowing.

Winnie grinned, climbing over the top of the pillows before settling behind her mother. She was the first to press a kiss to Claire’s cheek, grinning as she nodded for Owen’s turn. He matched her smile before pressing a soft kiss to the top of Claire’s head, Winnie giggling as he did so. 

‘No! Like this,’ She kissed her mother’s cheek and Owen rolled his eyes. Claire’s breathing beside him had shifted, deeper than what it had been in her sleep. Owen had a feeling she was awake and had been for a little while. Regardless, he matching the little girl’s kiss, dropping one to Claire’s cheek and another to the tip of her nose.

She grinned under his affection, squirming beside him as she tried to hold in a laugh. ‘Morning, sleepyhead.’ Claire hummed, unfurling her fingers from his shirt as she stretched slightly. An arm wound around his bicep while the other sought Winnie out, curling around the girl and pulling her in tight.

‘Owen had a sleepover,’ Winnie told her mother, voice dropped low as though it was a secret between the two of them. Claire did as Owen had, pressing the back of her hand to Winnie’s forehead not convinced that the girl was back to normal. 

He caught Claire biting her lip as she nodded at her daughter. ‘I can see that.’ She tickled her daughter’s side. ‘He was worried about you.’ She kissed the top of Winnie’s head, her hand squeezing Owen’s wrist. Claire did as Owen had. She pressed the back of her hand to Winnie’s forehead not convinced that the girl had gained her health back in one evening. ‘How’re you feeling?’ 

Winnie grumbled, her head on her mother’s chest and her eyes closed. ‘Still yucky.’ Her skin was still hot to touch, her cheeks blotched pink with warmth. ‘We don’t gotta go nowhere?’ She asked quietly, humming against her mother. 

It was instinct on Owen’s behalf that tugged both Dearing girls towards him a little tighter. ‘No, we can stay right here today.’ Claire offered the girl, kissing her head again. Owen tucked his arm around them both, his hand resting on Winnie’s back, his nose pressed to Claire’s hair.

If there was anything that he had learnt about Winnie in the weeks that he had known her, it was that she could nap anywhere at any time. The sight of her eyes closed, a small hand on her mother’s neck was enough of an indicator that the girl was willing to close her eyes for a little longer.

‘You don’t have to stay,’ Claire told him quietly watching Winnie’s face as though she were a newborn, still marvelling in her expressions as her skin crinkled in her sleep.

Owen hummed, ‘I don’t mind, if you don’t mind’. Claire shook her head, tightening her grip on his wrist before she let it go, comfortable that he wasn’t going anywhere. 

‘You’re warm,’ Claire mumbled, pout creasing the lines of her mouth. She snuggled into him a little closer. ‘No wonder Winnie likes falling asleep on you.’ Owen chuckled at the statement. It had happened on more than one occasion but he never would have thought that his body temperature was the reason. He thought of Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the story in the forefront of his mind after encountering it with Win semi recently. Everything had to be _just right_ for Goldilocks to be comfortable. All things belonged to the third, baby bear. Clearly, in Claire and Winifred Dearing’s case. Just right was Owen Grady. ‘Welcome to lazy mornings.’ Claire hummed, breaking into his thoughts, smiling, head tilted back to catch his eye. Owen grinned, still caught in his thoughts as lines creased his eyes with admiration for the woman and her daughter in his arms.

‘I’m glad to be here.’ He teased, shifting his hand to bop her nose fondly before returning it to his protective guard. He was happy being _just right_. 

[…]

He didn’t mean for the week to slip out from underneath them. One minute they had several days left with Winnie and in another she was due to go back to her father in the morning. 

Owen had been close with Claire and Winnie for the remainder of the week. The girl was unable to shake her illness waning in and out on her health as she tried not to count down the days she had left with her mother at Jurassic World. She clung tightly to Owen, falling asleep on him each night as they settled with a movie after dinner. 

She called out for him after she was put to bed, leaving Owen to crash on the couch for a single night before Claire invited him to share her bed. She didn’t want him to go. Owen returning home meant another day over and even though avoiding that was inevitable it made Claire feel better to have him near. He still had to work, and so did she. Their schedules keeping the same pattern, only Owen returned to her apartment at the end of the day and stayed until he had to leave for work in the morning. 

He had kissed Winnie goodnight, his lips pressed to the skin of her forehead before he broke away and left the room. It was up to Claire to wrangle the girl back into her bedsheets before drifting off to sleep. Winnie didn’t want to go. She knew what the morning would hold. 

They’d been over it with her several times in the last six days, talking through the motions in order to prepare her for her voyage home. He listened, in the hallway to Win’s small voice asking for the tenth time if she _had_ to go back to Madison. Claire’s response was a little more strained this time than what it had been previously, the sound soft but alarming. 

‘Yes you do. Your daddy misses you _so_ much.’ 

Owen could see Winnie shaking her head, pout on her lips and arms crossed as her voice reached him. ‘No, he can come visit us here … like you do.’ 

Claire explained calmly that there was a rule. It couldn’t be flipped. 

Winnie had to go home to her father, Claire gave away her custody when she left more than three years ago. Andrew would not allow for their positions to be reversed. ‘Daddy’s still a bit hurt, remember? He needs you at home to give him cuddles and kisses and lots and lots of love.’ He could hear the fake cheer in her voice and the slight crackle of her emotions. Win was pushing down on the soft subjects unintentionally and Claire was barely keeping it together. 

‘You should change the rule.’ Winnie grumbled quietly, finally dropping the conversation. She allowed her mother to exit the room with a soft ‘ _goodnight, sleep tight’._

When Claire stepped into the hallway her eyes were glassy, her focus barely there. The sight of Owen made her knees weak, her bottom lip wobbling as tears built in her eyes. Claire practically collapsed in his arms as Owen moved her from the hall to Claire’s bedroom.

‘She doesn’t want to go home.’ She whispered around a sob lodged in her throat as though Owen hadn’t heard a single word. Claire didn’t know how they were going to be able to board that ferry with the girl in the morning. Andrew’s mother was collecting her on the other side. Claire couldn’t stand the thought that Winnie was not excited to see her grandma or her father, that she had to hand the child over regardless of what she wanted. 

Claire curled herself into a ball in the middle of her bed, trying desperately not to look like a wreck in front of Owen. He only watched her with kind eyes and patience, a hand rubbing her back as he sighed. ‘If you keep her here, everything will implode.’ It wasn’t what Claire wanted to hear, and Owen knew it. ‘If I could grant you full custody of Win, I would. I’d do it in a heartbeat, Claire.’ He kissed her cheek, lying next to her as Claire played with his hands just like her daughter did on occasion. ‘Why don’t we go see a lawyer tomorrow? After we take Win to the ferry and have had time to adjust, we’ll go speak to someone about your options.’ She didn’t miss the way he said _‘we’_ including himself in plans she had never vocalised. 

It was clear to Claire how much Owen adored Winnie even in the short months he had spent with her. Claire knew, without doubt, that he would be there beside her when she decided to move things forward for Winnie. She couldn’t do it without Owen, and even if she could she was crazy to think so

Claire leaned into him, kissing Owen gratefully as he wound his arms around her waist. Owen rolled himself over the top of her, sinking into her thankful kisses with a deep hum. ‘I want to go see a lawyer,’ She told him as Owen cascaded kisses down her neck, her hand carding through his hair as the other gripped his arm. ‘And I don’t want you to leave.’ Claire’s voice was quiet, Owen barely catching the words as she said them.

‘I’m sorry, what?’ He stopped, leaving a gentle kiss on her cheek. 

In the soft light Claire’s cheeks burnt red. ‘When Winnie goes back to her father, I don’t want us to go back to our normal lives.’ She didn’t want to be in her apartment while Owen was in his bungalow separated without the young girl who had bought them together. They had spent too much time in each other’s pleasant company to be apart.

Owen dropped his head to the curve of Claire’s neck rubbing his stubble against her skin there. ‘Claire Dearing, are you asking me to date you?’ She couldn’t help the chuckle as she tried to squirm away from him. She hit a hand against his shoulder laughing as she admitted a date might have been what she was hinting at. 

A date would have been nice, anything, something, so long as he managed to keep her mind off the absence of her daughter. She had grown attached to the little girl she had previously struggled to bond with, the thought of her leaving causing an ache in her heart. 

Owen had wound a hand under her shirt, fingers gliding over her breast as he grinned at her mischievously. She let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering closed just as the door creaked and a little voice whimpered in the entrance.

He was the first to react, sighing heavily with disappointment as he rolled off Claire and addressed the upset child. ‘C’mon, little love.’ Owen beckoned, the sound of small feet on the carpet preceding the shift of Claire’s bed. 

Winnie settled between them cozily, little hiccups falling from her open mouth, thumb jammed between her teeth. There was a quip on the end of Owen’s tongue, one Claire understood without him having to say a word. 

She loved her daughter, and would miss her while she was gone. Her heart already aching in the soon to be silence. There was something to be said for an empty apartment. Without Winnie there was no reason for Owen to stop touching her the way Claire was desperate to be touched. 

Winnie unsettled herself, rolling over to clap her hands to Claire’s face, her spit covered thumb sliding across her mother’s cheek. Winnie squeezed both sides of her mother’s face as she watched her with childlike concern. ‘Love you, Mommy.’ 

Claire sighed, her breath catching in her throat as she stuttered, smile skipping across her face. She kissed her daughter’s nose, humming as she did so. ‘Love you too, bug.’ 

‘And Owen,’ Winnie threw an arm back, hitting him in the nose as she did so. Owen chuckled, muffling a grunt of pain as he kissed the girl’s small knuckles and uttered the admission of love back without hesitation. 

[…] 

Their mood in the morning was somber. Winnie was on the brink of tears from the second she woke up. She played with her food, opting to push it around the plate rather than eat it. 

On the ferry she clung tightly to both adults. She sat on Owen’s lap, the man holding one of her hands while her mother held the other. Claire rested her head on Owen’s shoulder, her cheek gracing the top of her daughter’s head as they sat quietly. 

There was no eager chatter, no askance into dinner or activities. It was dead quiet, the little girl knowing there was no use in starting anything up as there were no conversation starters that didn’t end with her going _home_. 

Owen took her in, absorbing the way Winnie smelt like rosewood warm and heady, something so strange for a little girl, yet welcoming. It reminded him of the woods, and getting lost between the trees. The homely scent of his childhood, and better yet his Isla Nublar bungalow. The faintest hint of vanilla lingered on her. It was Claire’s smell, clean and childlike filled with whimsical days of watching his mother get ready in the morning dabbing vanilla on her wrists and her neck. It must have rubbed off on the girl, the smell imprinting on her clothes and clinging to each of her movements.

He watched the way the sun caught her red hair, setting it alight, and the tangerine hue of her freckles in the morning glow sunlight bouncing off crystalline water. He was too scared to look her in the eye, terrified that his heart would break with the depths of her mixed blue-green. It was one thing to soak her in, another to acknowledge that was what he was doing. 

Claire clung to him with the arm that was not holding her daughter, wound around his as tight as she could manage. When the ferry stopped moving she tensed knowing all too well that the sudden flow of passengers meant that they had berthed. The bodies of both Dearing women tensed the second they realised their trip was over. 

This was it. Time to say goodbye. 

Winnie didn’t let go of Owen as they disembarked. The man holding her up with an arm while the other squeezed her mother’s hand. Small hands clung tightly to his neck squeezing on for dear life. She’d held him just as tightly when he introduced her to the raptors, or each time the Mosasaurs show was on the crowd loud enough to hear from any point of Main Street. 

He wanted to keep her in his arms forever, to hold her safe and warm. The world was not a scary place, and Win had managed long before he came into the picture. Now that he was there, though, he couldn’t bare the idea of not being beside her. Knowing that she was going to be off island was a lot different than having her there barricaded by the ocean and in her mother’s care. 

‘I can see Grandma Jean,’ Claire announced, her spare hand rubbing Winnie’s back. The girl whimpered, pushing herself closer to Owen as she peeped at her mother from his shoulder. _She didn’t want to go home_. Claire was glad that it was Jean who was sent to get the girl. Winnie had a good relationship with her, adored the woman as though she made the sun rise and fall. She would be comfortable going home with her. 

Claire could feel the tears burning in her eyes, a lump formed in her throat as her hands started to shake. Owen only squeezed her hand harder as they approached Win’s grandmother, the woman beaming as she waved at them. 

She didn’t dare look at Owen as she broke away from him hugging Jean as though they were old friends. Although Andrew had his issues with Claire, his mother didn’t share them. She had always encouraged a relationship for Winnie and her mother, calling Claire with updates and sending her pictures. If it weren’t for Jean she would have dropped off the map, never seeing her daughter again thanks to Andrew’s harsh attitude. 

‘How’ve you been?’ She asked Claire with a warm smile. ‘Did it go okay?’ She had been the one to call when Andrew was in hospital, offering that Claire take the time with her daughter while it was available. She’d met her at the airport and helped her pack a few of Winnie’s things before dropping them off at the end of the weekend. 

Claire only nodded, incapable of finding the words that expressed her time with Winifred. She had never been more terrified to have her daughter, unsupervised, in her care. Their start was rocky but they learnt their way, feeling out their differences and trying to make it work. When their pieces clicked together Claire was left with a cuddly little girl, warm and snug, content to curl up with her mother and read books to the end of time. 

Jean watched Owen with a close eye curiously taking in the man who was holding her granddaughter. ‘Ah, this is Owen.’ Claire introduced, finding the courage to look at him and the way he was holding Winnie protectively. Her heart broke all over again. It wasn’t just Claire who had to say goodbye, but Owen too. He could have cut off ties before they got on the ferry, saying goodbye then rather than holding it his pain. ‘He …’ She watched him, and the small grin that licked at the corner of his mouth, decision made. ‘We’re together.’ Jean looked taken aback for a minute before she greeted him, smiling just as warmly as she had for Claire before she hugged the woman whispering something in her ear. 

‘This,’ Jean started, pointing at Winnie’s back. ‘Is going to take a lot of prying … and it’ll hurt. Do you want to go get coffee first?’ Claire nodded without taking it into thought, desperate for a little extra time with Winnie before letting her go. 

The cafe beside the docks was bustling with people waiting to go to Jurassic World or stopping after they had disembarked. Their small group didn’t pay them any mind as they focused on themselves, Jean trying to pry information out of the little girl who had moved from Owen’s lap to her mother’s. 

She didn’t want to share the pretty pink of her nails, or explain the braid that rain down her head. There was no information about the friendly herbivores that she had met or what it was like to touch a Velociraptor. Instead, Winnie clung to Claire like she was a small infant, one hand tucked around her mother’s side while the other played with her necklace. Winnie accepted the gingerbread man Owen offered her, giving him a small sad smile and no words. 

When cups had been drained from the last of their coffee it signified their time to leave. Winnie clung to her mother as they paid the bill and moved for the parking lot. Winnie’s grip got tighter, her eyes blown wide as Owen smiled at her, her arms locked around Claire’s neck. 

The panic within the girl only grew deeper when her mother kissed her hair and whispered that she loved her. Winnie’s grip tightened as she whimpered ‘ _no’_ into her mother’s shoulder. Claire turned to Owen with wide panicked eyes her expression the same as Win’s. She didn’t know what to do and so she turned to him for help. 

They had reached Jean’s car, booster ready for Win int he backseat. The adults dragged their feet and Winnie’s knuckles turned white against her mother’s hair. ‘Okay Winnie, time to say goodbye.’ Jean announced in a cheerful voice trying to quell the emotion. 

Winnie shook her head as she held onto Claire for dear life. ‘No! I’m staying with my mommy!’ She told Jean, her eyes squeezed shut. 

‘You can’t stay with me, bug. Remember, Daddy has the rule. You have to go home.’ Claire whispered into the girl’s ear, kissing her hair as she tried to find the slightest bit of comfort. Winnie didn’t want to go home, no matter how reluctant she had been to follow Claire to Jurassic World - her mind had been changed. Winnie loved her father, but some time away from him reminded the girl of the companionship she had been missing with constant time with her mother. Now that she had the bond, Winnie didn’t want to let it go. 

Owen made the move so Claire didn’t have to. He waited for her nod, their communication nonverbal before he stepped forward and pried Winnie from her arms. The girl howled, crying out as though he had hurt her violently. He thought he had hurt her, the sound so broken and desperate that he almost pulled her into his chest and cuddled her until she stopped.

Claire looked terrified, watching him with scared eyes as he moved the girl from her and tucked her into the car buckling her in as she tried to fight him, little limbs scrambling. ‘Mommy!’ Winnie cried weakly as she tried to catch sight of her mother past Owen’s bulk that was filling the open space. ‘I want my mommy!’ She pouted at Owen, her fingers in her mouth trying to sooth herself. He ran a hand over her face, almost swallowing her whole with the difference between her small head and his large hand. 

‘Win,’ He dropped the sound of his voice, ‘You’re not going to cause a fuss right now,’ He told her hoping he could command the situation. He kissed her cheek when she pouted at him, small face contorted with dislike. ‘Everything is OK.’ She pouted deeper, a feat Owen didn’t think was possible. 

‘I’m right here,’ He felt Claire’s hand on his back, her petite fist clenching his shirt. She had gathered all the strength she could to stand beside him, her bright smile wavering as she addressed Winnie. ‘Grandma Jean is going to take you home to see Daddy, bug.’ Winnie shook her head, mouth open to protest when Claire stopped her. ‘He’s so excited to see you.’ She told the girl that Andrew was ecstatic to see her bursting at the seams to kiss and cuddle her as she kissed the girl’s cheeks. ‘Grandma is going to call me at bedtime to say goodnight,’ Claire told her kissing the soft skin of her daughter’s cheeks once more before coaxing her back into her seat. 

Owen had attempted to buckle the girl in, but had not succeeded. Claire tricked Winnie into it, letting go of Owen’s shirt to use two hands against the buckles. Winnie was still pouting, her mother trying to ignore the look of upset in order to avoid her own emotions. ‘You have to tell him all about Jurassic World,’ Claire told her, fastening the buckles and bopping her daughter on the nose. 

Winnie’s eyes grew wide, terror filling them in an instant as she looked from Claire to Owen. ‘My Blue! I forgot her.’ Claire let her eyes close for a second, dread filling in the pit of her gut. Of course, of all things to be left behind it was the plush dinosaur Owen had bought her. 

Owen moved, disappearing behind Claire to ruffle through the suitcase they had packed for Winnie. He knew she would forget the creature that morning almost by instinct and could have sworn he packed it for her. ‘Got it!’ He called back to them, Jean grinning from beside the car ready to load the suitcase into the vehicle. ‘She’s right here.’ He handed the toy over to grateful Claire. 

‘You gotta fill her with love.’ Winnie half demanded, insisting her mother squish the toy to her chest for half a minute before kissing it on the head. ‘And Owen.’ She insisted, watching the toy change hands before Owen squeezed it tight. 

‘Okay, have you got everything now?’ Claire asked, small smile tickling the sides of her mouth, warmth filling her head. 

‘Rapunzel?’ Owen asked, checking the girl’s mental itinerary. Winnie was just like her mother with her lists and schedules, she had thought she forgot her dinosaur _Blue_ purely because she had not seen it go into her bag. Everything else she oversaw as Claire packed. ‘Mulan? Your clothes?’ She nodded to each thing Owen listed, giggling as his items grew slightly more ridiculous. ‘Are you _sure_ you have your shoes?’ There was a small pair of children’s gumboots sitting on the patio outside his bungalow, they were staying on the island exactly where she had left them; not that Winnie had noticed at all. ‘Well,’ He told her with a big grin, his hand wrapping around Claire’s and holding on for all his worth. ‘I think you’re ready to go.’ 

‘We do have a plane to catch, little one.’ Jean announced behind them knowing full well that time was ticking too quickly for anyone’s liking. 

Winnie accepted each of their hugs, and the kiss to her cheek Owen offered as well as the one her mother dropped to the top of her head. She still looked startled, not quite ready for her world to shift and realign once again. Owen knew too well that she was feeding off her mother’s nervous energy, anxious because Claire was fidgeting.

Owen wrapped an arm around Claire’s waist, gentling tugging her away from the car as she blew one last kiss to Winnie before he shut the door. Jean hugged them both quickly, promising to update Claire whilst they were in transit. 

The car was gone before they knew it leaving Owen and Claire behind, standing in the parking lot without the little girl. Claire was leaning on him heavily, her arm wrapped around his back, her cheek pressed to his chest. She didn’t want to move, only wanted to watch the space Winnie had vacated. 

‘C’mon,’ Owen squeezed her before letting her go, waiting a beat before he took her hand. ‘We’ve got a meeting in forty.’ Claire followed the warmth of him, stuck to Owen’s side as they moved for the employee carpark. 

He let go of her when they reached Barry’s car, the keys to which sitting in Owen’s pocket his friend allowing him the loan for the day. The second they were in, seat belts buckled, engine humming to life as his hand found hers in her lap. 

‘It’s so quiet without her,’ Claire whispered, smiling at him softly as she accepted the way his fingers slid against her hand, engulfing the small bones there. 

‘We’ll try to make it a little less quiet,’ He offered as they moved for the lawyers office Claire had arranged a meeting with. She didn’t need Owen to accompany her. Claire wanted him there and there was likely no use in shooing him away. Just as he didn’t need to be there that morning to join Claire and Winnie on the ferry, Owen chose to. Claire had no choice in leaving him to get back on the ferry to return to the island alone while she sought out legal advice in pursuing custody of her daughter. She would be insane to let his support go just as easily as that.

He was a great resource, one Claire was only just realising the depths of. Be it for his strength, his warmth, his company, or his knowledge - Owen was willing in handing out the skill or the support with nothing in return. 

He sat behind her calmly in her lawyer’s office, his only tell of nerves the way his leg bounced, jumping so much on the floor it rattled her chair. Claire was the picture of composed business regardless that her clothes were informal. Her posture was perfect her face straight, she reached a hand out to hold his knee without so much as batting an eyelash. 

‘You’re driving me crazy,’ She hissed to the empty office levelling Owen with a glare. He only grinned nervously, apologising as he fidgeted with his hands before Claire took hold of one. he settled after that, surprising her that the only comfort he needed was a palm in his. He had reached for her so many times that morning, trying to comfort her in the way he needed to be comforted.

‘Sorry, I know this is important.’ Owen apologised, for the first time drawing Claire’s attention towards him. He had known it was important, he stuck around, he held her hand despite Claire not needing the attention. Owen, for all the brownie points he was acquiring; was clean. Which, was not to say he was a dirty man, but rather that he usually missed a few marks of dirt on his arms or his cheek. His day in the raptor paddock imprinted on his clothes and wound it’s way through his hair. But, the Owen beside Claire was spotless. He wasn’t clean shaven, though she suspected that had something to do with Winnie, the girl loving the way his stubble scratched her cheeks, shrieking with unadulterated glee. 

He knew how important this was. Even though it was just a meeting with Claire’s lawyer, one she had known for years; there being no need to make a good impression. Owen had tried anyway. His clothes were clean, likely brand new a touch different to what he would usually wear. Claire chastised herself for not noticing sooner. 

She wanted to reach over and kiss him. She wanted to run her fingers through his combed hair and crease his new shirt. He looked foreign to her, dressed up and washed. Claire didn’t know what to do with him, or how to thank him for the courage and support he provided. If it wasn’t for Owen taking Winnie the first time that he did Claire’s relationship with her daughter would have been exactly the same. 

Claire owed it all to him. 

Nancy only smiled at her formally after they had spoken, ironing out fine details and Claire stating her case. She clasped her hands neatly on the desk in front of her and addressed her long time client. ‘I think you have a chance here, Claire.’ The words themselves set off butterflies in her chest, caged birds suddenly free. She held it in, waiting until they were in the carpark keys in Owen’s hands. She jumped him, body vibrating with glee as she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down for a crushing kiss. 

[…]

…Two Years Later…

There was something spectacular in coming home to what she had. It was only three quarters of the school breaks and every second Christmas but it was better than nothing, even if it did coincide with the parks busy season. Her condo was alive on those occasions, with laughter and light, joy shinning so brightly she often mistook it for the sun.

Nothing was better than that first day of every visit. Boarding the ferry after a long separation, knowing when she walked in the door that her small Costa Rican condo would be warm with love and an extra body Claire valued over everything else. 

‘Mommy!’ Met her the second she turned the bolt, door swinging open softly to greet the little girl who came running towards her. Claire scooped her up with glee, mindful of how heavy the girl had become. Age weighted down Winifred’s bones with the added reminder that she was too big for her mother’s arms. 

Claire covered her cheeks in kisses, letting the girl giggle into her hair as freely as small children were capable. ‘Did you have a good trip?’ Claire hated it, the distance between Madison and Costa Rica, she hated making her daughter do it alone - but she wanted the time with her. When she could, she made the trip herself, collecting her daughter at the other end and bringing her back, but it was a rare thing she was trying to organise more often. 

The girl nodded easily, her head tucked into her mother’s shoulder as she played with the necklace Claire never removed. ‘Owen bought me flowers.’ She told her mother, pointing to the new bouquet on her coffee table. He always bought her flowers, lovesick on the pride he felt when he made her smile. 

‘Did he now?’ Claire grinned, her smile widening for the man of the hour. Owen stepped out of the kitchen, meeting Claire in the middle to kiss her cheek and to gloat. 

‘Welcome home, my queen.’ He teased, a second comment drifting from his lips about the princess as Win’s feet touched the floor, the girl running for the kitchen bench. Claire only rolled her eyes, accepting the second kiss he offered her and quiet words concerning the airport. Winnie had done well travelling on her own, just as she always did. 

Winnie bemoaned the distance, seven hours on a plane was too long for a little girl. She was only six, just making it to counting her age on two hands. Travelling from one end of her county into another was relying on a little too much for school breaks and the occasional long weekend. ‘Told her she had to wait until you came home for our news?’ Owen told her, watching as Win’s ear’s practically picked up with the reminder. 

She watched her mother cautiously as Claire approached the counter, leaning on it beside Winnie as Owen rounded the other side. ‘How would you feel if Mama moved to Chicago?’ 

Winnie watched her, eyes growing wide before narrowing again. ‘And Owen too?’ She asked quietly. Claire nodded. From the start, Owen had been everything. He was the reason she now owned a condo off island from Jurassic World - one she shared with him. Their personal haven from the chaos of the island but also their _family_ home. ‘That’s right next door!’ Winnie exclaimed, pulling a relieved sigh from Claire. She worried, for a beat, that Winnie wouldn’t recall where the city was. 

‘It’s three hours away in the car.’ Owen added, grin almost splitting his face in half. It would still be time consuming but as far as he and Claire were concerned, Masrani’s offer to relocate them could not have been to a more convenient location. 

The research Owen had spent slaving over, from the second his girls hatched was soiled by Vic Hoskins. The man got in the way one too many times, the raptors were mishandled and thus suffered the consequences when Owen wasn’t there to defend them. He couldn’t bare starting again, not with Hoskins still standing, capable of ruining it once again. Owen remained jobless, aimlessly seeking out employment in Costa Rica in oder to stay with Claire. He didn’t want to move just because he had had enough. Owen poured his heart and soul into his girls and he lost them. He wouldn’t have the same thing happen to Claire and Winnie, not when they had fought to get to where they were. 

Masrani approached Claire with the offer, knowing there was work for Owen in Chicago. It was closer to Winnie, and for Masrani he wanted Claire’s talent on a bigger project. One more reliable than his treasured Jurassic World. 

She accepted willingly. 

‘Really, really?’ Winnie asked when Claire repeated how close they would be and the things they could do together in a new city. ‘And I can come live with you, not Daddy no more?’ Ever since it became an option, Winnie was fixated willing to reap the time she had missed with her mother as a young infant. She had no issue with Andrew, and the man in return was learning to have no issue with Claire. 

Her request for joint custody stirred the pot, but after Winnie had come home from Claire excited and willing he couldn’t deny the girl a single second. He had half hoped once Winnie started school, her schedule would be impossible for Claire. The woman only fought harder to make it work. 

Claire shook her head. ‘No, you live with Daddy full-time, remember?’

Winnie squinted, features contorted as she looked her mother over before turning to Owen. ‘But, Owen’s like my daddy!’ Claire deflated, more at the loss of an argument than the statement at all. She saw Owen’s face bloom at the found of the words, knowing full well that if the girl had thought them, Claire would allow it. 

‘You know, your daddy is always your daddy right?’ Owen intervened, terrified to take another man’s place while he was still standing there with no signs of backing down. Andrew loved Winnie, Owen had seen it with his own two eyes. He respected the man, and in return got the same mutual feeling. 

‘But you can be my other daddy? I can haves two, please?’ She looked to her mother with two fingers between them, as though Claire herself was the authority on how many daddies were handed out to little girls. She nodded once, briskly, terrified of where her daughter’s six-year-old point was going. ‘You love Owen lots and lots, yes?’ She asked, little forehead still crinkled in thought. 

Claire hesitated, the answer wasn’t a secret. She had learnt to let it out and share it with a select few. She was sure that Winnie knew her feelings, at least it was implied when the man was around in all of their personal time. She nodded, giving her daughter an answer. ‘But not as much as I love you.’ She teased the girl, still watching Owen out the corner of her eye. 

‘Do you want to be my other daddy?’ Winnie asked Owen, an undeniable vulnerability in her voice. He rounded the kitchen bench, stopping in front of her, Claire at his right. 

‘Of course I want to be your other daddy!’ He told her, scooping the girl off her chair as he swung her into his arms. She was still as little that day as she had been the first time she slipped her hand into his. Owen wondered if she would ever grow, or if she would remain little to him forever. He wanted her delicate fingers to clasp around his thumb and never let go. With Winnie, and Claire, Owen had the rest of eternity. 

Young excitement exclaimed bright bursts of humour across their little home, fulling their hearts to the brim, almost ready to burst. 

Claire could not comprehend her initial thoughts that Winnie was better off without her. She was thankful that doubt had washed itself away, cleansing in Winnie’s laughter. She would have missed so much she now held dear, her heart still aching for the baby she left behind, the infant that didn’t have her mother nearby. But, past choices were made. Claire was learning to improve on their present and future more than anything else. 

He was a pack man, looking to be the alpha of a pride. Owen had once considered himself incapable of settling down. People were not his thing. He would retire to the depths of Africa and uphold the conservation parks until his dying day, alone with nothing but nature’s most feared beasts. He ruled out the opportunity of a wife, a daughter, a family. And, although he and Claire were long from the wedding chapel - if ever - they were committed. Winnie wasn’t his, not by blood. She held his heart and soul, sharing it with him, giving it back piece by piece through every little mannerism.

If it weren’t for them he’d still be leading around a long string of one nightstands and dangerous endeavours that would find him killed before his time. Now, he was concerned about going too soon. He wanted to love Claire enough, and watch Winnie grow. He wanted to be there the day she placed his grandchild in his arms. He wanted Winnie and any possible siblings he could talk Claire into, biological or adopted. Whatever it was, whatever the compromise. Owen wanted it all. Something he never thought he would. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey fam,   
> If you enjoyed Winnie and are interested in reading more, there are some prompts filled over in 'Despite the Odds' starting at #228. They are labeled with her name, followed by the story title. Also, I am more than willing to take more prompts from any point in her timeline if there is something you feel you need to see added or a wish fulfilled. 
> 
> Much love, Lucy  
> (16/08/16)


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